Bootstrap's Promise
by Buckhunter The Race Horse
Summary: Companion piece to A Fate That Befell Him. Read that first. Just over twenty years after AWE, Captain Jack Sparrow and the crew of the Flying Dutchman happen upon not just any ship, but the Black Pearl. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, Pirates of the Caribbean, or the characters. If I did, I wouldn't be here and Pirates of the Caribbean would have a different reality.**

**Summary: Companion piece to **_**A Fate That Befell Him**_**. Read that first. Just over twenty years after AWE, Captain Jack Sparrow and the crew of the **_**Flying Dutchman**_** happen upon not just any ship, but the **_**Black Pearl**_**.**

**Bootstrap's Promise:**

"Cap'n, ship ahead!" The familiar voice of the _Flying Dutchman_'s first mate roared.

"What flag are they under, Maccus?" The captain demanded, bursting from his cabin.

"Pirate, sir." The man turned to him. "It's the _Black Pearl_."

The captain walked to the starboard side of the ship and glanced out over the water. His eyes rested on the ship. He recognized it immediately, having spent years aboard that ship before this one. Worry coursed through him- something he'd not felt in years. He remembered he'd left his heart with the Turners. He could see bodies lying on the deck, blood staining the wood red. The ship's main mast had snapped, lying across the open deck. He could feel the death radiating off of the ship. More bodies floated in the nearby sea. He swore he could see a Navy ship leaving the scene on the horizon.

"Lower anchor beside 'er an' put up a plank between the ships." He ordered Maccus, without turning towards him. "I'm goin' over there."

"Aye, sir." The first mate nodded and turned to fulfill the orders.

Within moments, the _Dutchman_'s captain had teleported over to the other ship. It was so much worse up close. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, both Navy and pirate. He recognized many of the pirates; Cotton, Marty, Pintel, Ragetti. He heard gasping and struggling across the deck and looked up. He saw his former first mate, Joshamee Gibbs, lying at the helm. He walked up the quarter deck and stopped, looking down at his friend. The man's eyes were squeezed tight in pain.

"Gibbs!" He knelt down beside him. "Gibbs, wha' happened 'ere?"

"_Jack!"_ The man's weak voice had a tone of joy to it, and he opened his eyes to squint up at him. "What are ye doin' 'ere?"

"Unfortunately, my duty of captainin' the bloody _Flying Dutchman _brought me 'ere, to the _Pearl_." He told his long time friend and former first mate. Then he asked again,"Wha' happened?"

"Two Navy ships spotted us." Gibbs gasped out. He was obviously fading from this world quickly. "Man o' war an' a frigate...outgunned...an' surrounded...We fought 'em off right well...sank the frigate...wasn't enough."

"'M sure ye did your best, mate." Sparrow assured him with a small, sad smile that was meant to reassure his friend. The light was leaving the man's eyes now, and he was beginning to fall limp. "Get some rest, Mr. Gibbs. Ye've earned it."

"Thank ye...Cap'n Jack." The man's words came out a whisper. His eyes glazed over within a moment, staring forever up at the Caribbean sky.

The other man's head hung low and a roar of both grief and anger burst from his throat. "Dammit, Gibbs!" He stood up quietly, walking to the port side of the ship. He ran his hand along the railing. He could feel the life in the wood that he'd felt since he first boarded her, so many years ago, under Beckett's command. When he spoke, it was a quiet murmur to his ship. "Ye're a fine ship. Always 'ave been. Ye didn't deserve this." _There's somethin' wrong about this_.

He heard the rippling of the waves grow more intense and looked to see the _Dutchman _coming to a halt beside the damaged ship. A plank was quickly put up and the crew boarded.

"Orders, sir?" Maccus spoke up from the bottom of the stairs to the quarter deck.

"Ye know the routine." The captain grumbled. He rose his voice slightly. "Look for survivors."

"And what of the fate of the ship?"

"The _Dutchman _can tow 'er to the nearest port."

The man nodded. "Aye, sir." He split off to do as told.

Sparrow briskly walked the plank back to the _Dutchman _and phased through the wall of his cabin muttering,"Who needs a bloody door?" He sat down at the old chair at the desk, glancing into a long shattered mirror. After twenty-one years, he certainly hadn't kept his old looks. He'd let his beard grow out- it almost looked like Barbossa's, just longer and darker. His dreadlocks were the only semblance of his old self, though they were in need of being redone. He glanced away from the mirror.

"Survivors!" An excited cry came from the other ship.

He didn't react to his crew member's call, though he felt a tinge of hope momentarily, before his somber mood took over. He suspected that the survivors would be injured, most likely pretty badly, considering they'd fought against a man o' war. He wouldn't be surprised if they died soon after they boarded. One thing Sparrow kept forgetting to have his crew get over the past years was medical supplies for the survivors. They'd never kept any aboard- none of the crew nor himself have ever needed it, as they're immortal.

The cabin door creaked open. Footsteps made the floorboards groan. The door closed and the light that came with it faded.

"Captain Sparrow." A feminine voice he knew all too well rang out.

Part of him wanted to smile at hearing her alive, but he couldn't bring himself to. He didn't answer.

"Ye can't ignore us forever, Jack." An older male told him.

The _Dutchman_'s captain sighed audibly, finally turning to face them. "So tell me...how 'ave the past twenty-somethin' years treated ye lot?"

Two men- father and son- and a woman stood before him. The Turners. They didn't look like they'd aged a day, aside from extra wrinkles on the skin of their faces.

"Well enough, until today." Young Mr. Turner told him.

"So I can see." He frowned at them. "Usin' the bloody _Pearl _to fight man o' wars. That ship is _not_ built for that."

"They attacked us." The woman told him.

"Gibbs tells me there was a frigate too. Said ye sank it." Sparrow said.

"Where is Gibbs?" The younger man asked. No answer. "Jack? Where is he?"

"He didn't make it." He finally told them, voice quiet. "Ye three are the only survivors."

No one said anything. The captain sighed, turning away from them to stare at the objects on his desk mournfully. It was deadly silent in the cabin, the only noises coming from outside; the shouts of Maccus and the rest of the crew, and the rhythm of the waves lapping against the two ships. He could hear the groaning boards of the _Pearl _as the broken mast was pulled fully onto the deck and secured as best as possible. _That ship took a real beatin'._

"I'm sorry, Jack."

"No need to be, 'Lizabeth. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I knew I'd find the _Pearl _an' state of the crew this way eventually, b'cause this is the only bloody ship that'll ever last for eternity. Everyone I know who doesn't server on the _Dutchman _will be dead long before me. I accepted that long ago."

"An' what do ye plan on doin' with us?" Bootstrap asking warily. "Ye gonna keep us prisoner like Jones, or drop us off at the next port?"

Sparrow turned around and studied his old friend with hard eyes. "That's not funny, mate." He finally growled. "I'm not the type to take prisoners, an' I'm certainly not killin' ye. Of course, I'm droppin' ye off at the nearest port, along with the _Pearl_. An' then I'll be off to take care o' the rest o' the crew…"

The man whispered something that sounded suspiciously like,"Let me talk to him" to the younger couple, who nodded and left the cabin. He turned back to his friend, walking up to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. "How've ye been faring, Jack?"

"I spent the first five years hopin' that someone would manage to break the curse. That faded too soon. Now I want some fool to stab the heart an' kill me, to save me from this." He paused. "Pickin' up so many dead people I knew was probably the worst of it. I began to wonder how long it'd be till I came across the _Pearl _like this. Twenty-one years...still too soon." Another pause. "How'd ye survive it, mate? Especially under Jones of all people."

"I survived it by knowin' that every soul we came across, every dead man, was now at peace." Bootstrap told him quietly. "As we were boardin' the _Dutchman _earlier, I heard your crew talkin' about a stop ye made yesterday. I'm sorry 'bout Teague."

A sharp pain of emotion pierced Sparrow's chest. He inhaled deeply to compose himself. His voice had the faintest hint of a shake. "T'was bound to happen. Only the immortal live forev'r."

"An' ye're one of them, Jack." His friend pointed out.

"I know. An' I hate it. There was a time I'd 'ave given anythin' to be immortal." His eyes glistened with pain for a moment. "Now I'll give anythin' not to be." He paused thoughtfully. "Bill, mate, can ye promise me somethin? Anythin'?"

"Aye. I'll do anythin' for ye, Jack. Ye saved my son's life."

"'Ad a feelin' ye'd say that. What I want the three o' ye to do, once we drop ye off at the next port, that is, is to repair the _Pearl _and find a way to free me. Whether it's actually freein' me from this or trickin' some fool into stabbin' the heart, I don't care. I jus' want to be free from this, even if it means dyin'."

"Jack-" Bootstrap tried to protest.

"Please." The _Dutchman_'s captain begged. "There's somethin' wrong 'bout this; the job, the fact that I can't do as I wish. This in't freedom- it in't right. When I lost my freedom, I lost meself too."

He was silent, considering it for a long moment. "Alright...Aye, I'll do it. Consider it repayment for savin' William's life, and for me not doin' more to help when Barbossa mutinied all those years ago."

Sparrow nodded in agreement to his friend's request. "Thank ye, Bill. Jus' don't take too long, savvy?"

"Aye. Within the next ten years, ye'll step off this ship a free man again."


End file.
